making the left turn unto  Wilks ave. My steering wheel spins in my palm and
There...... on the park bench sits a red shirt and two more.

So I ease off the accelerator and squash the volume Bushwick Bill and Ghetto Boys drop low in the back seat..... Creepin.

Shirt #1 passed the dank to shirt #3 these simple ******* dont see me ......  stll creepin....shiney steel.
Locked and chambered

Shirt # 2 gets a glimpse as he takes a ****..... but now its bang bang ..... more red and chordite smoke.

R.I.P.